It's been four months since I've written you. I write you all the time in my mind, but finding time to sit down and actually write is really difficult these days. I wish I could tell you I was great, that everything is wonderful, but it's not entirely true. I guess we're working on that...
This life without you isn't easy. It's stupid. It shouldn't exist. You should be here. I still feel real pissed you were taken from us. Sometimes I just want to throw a temper tantrum like a child to get all the anger out. I don't know why I don't just scream and shout until I feel better. Wait, I do know. Too much inhibition. Ugh, can you imagine the stress that's causing? I thought as time passed that the feelings would dull and I would be okay. Wrong. The feelings aren't dull and I'm not okay.
I will never be okay with your death. Not ever. You were too young, too happy, too loving, too important to be taken from this earth. It's not okay. I am not okay with the girls living without you. None of it is okay. I am okay on the surface, but deep down I am still very heart broken. I started seeing a counselor last month. It was time. I want to be emotionally healthy for me, for the girls, for our future, because you would expect that and accept nothing less.
I know I need to dig a little deeper to process all the emotions, but I keep them so tightly locked away. It's safer and easier that way. Definitely not the long term solution. I'm a work in progress. It's so hard to deal with grief and loss that big.
I miss you. The words are so simple, but the feelings are so complex. I love you forever.